Death Cab for Cutie - Forbidden Love EP
MusicMash Rating: not rated yet
Pitchfork Media Rating: 7.5
More infectious than Ebola! More hooks than your grandpa's tackle box! Sticks like a hanging chad in your
brain! Alright, enough, I'll stop. But, seriously, these guys have really got potential to spare. Enough
potential, maybe, to someday become a capital "G", capital "B" Great Band. But what a terrible name! Really.
I mean, c'mon, Bonzo Dog Doo-Dah Band allusion or not, that's a hell of a thing to call yourself. When I'm
forced into saying the name out loud, I feel just like the fat white dude from the old IHOP commercial that
haunts the pancake house in a cheap masquerade get-up because he can't endure the shame of asking the waitress
for "the rooty-tooty-fresh-and-fruity breakfast, please."
But the important thing is that Death Cab cares. Every release these guys have turned out to date evinces
an affectionate attention to detail and an unwillingness to cut corners. From their consistently well-sculpted,
sad and saccharine pop songs to the beautifully designed CD sleeves they commission from Thingmakers, these
guys obviously enjoy what they're doing. And, most importantly, they want the listener to enjoy it as well.
The Forbidden Love EP consists of three new songs and two retooled tracks from this year's We Have
the Facts and We're Voting Yes. "Photobooth", the eminently hummable opening song, begins with a four-bar
intro of lo-fi and cheesily perfect Casio-style dance beat that gives way to the round, warm-blooded splendor
of the first verse. The effect attained when the grainy, submerged-sounding lead-off is suddenly overtaken by
the fuller and lush sound of the song's main body is powerful. The no-tech Casio beat persists for the song's
duration, buried subtly in the mix, and makes a nice percussive counterpoint to Michael Schorr's tastefully
restrained drumming. Decorative flourishes like synthesized strings and toy piano effortlessly enhance where
they might have obtruded, and keep Benjamin Gibbard's cloyingly sweet melody from becoming stale.
The next track, "Technicolor Girls", is a lazy ballad whose melody bears more than a passing resemblance to
those of Quasi's Sam Coomes. Though pretty, it's definitely the EP's weak link, dragging on longer than is
probably called for, and offering little to chew on other than the repetitive, cleanly picked guitar line
and a general pleasantness.
Things are back on track, though, with "Song for Kelly Huckaby". Waltzy, driving drums, nice interplay
between the synth lines and the vocal melody, along with the distorted but low-key guitar playing come
together beautifully. At times, Gibbard's singing is outmuscled by the synthstrings, but problems with the
mix aren't quite enough to sink the song, which is easily as good as anything they've released before.
The EP's two final cuts are alternate versions of arguably the best songs off We Have the Facts:
"405" and "Company Calls Epilogue". Ordinarily, this kind of thing is a good indicator that you oughta stay
the hell away; 40% of this EP is, after all, old material. Death Cab, however, does a beautiful job of
reprising these tracks, revamping not just the arrangements but their entire personality and tenor. The
new takes on these two songs are wonderfully refreshing in contrast to the bland demo mixes and alternate
versions of most EPs.
As you might surmise from the title, "405 (Acoustic)" strips the original down to its essence. The omission
of the drum tracks leaves the high notes strummed on the upbeat as the song's sole rhythmic force, and the
result is striking. Compared to the original, this version is much more intimate as well as, um, pretty.
And it's certainly not gonna quell further comparison to Elliot Smith. Gibbard isn't quite the songwriting
sophisticate that Smith has been-- yet. But his easy grasp of melody and his great voice bode well for the
future.
"Company Calls Epilogue (Alternate)" boasts several cool changes. Delay has been added to the main arpeggiated
guitar line, turning every picked note into two, and a touch of delay has been layered on Gibbard's singing.
The song has a more relaxed, narcotic feel to it. Rhythm-wise, the great boom-tap, boom-tap, kick-and-snare
bit that underlined the lyrics "But I can't" and "Date's...
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